


i found it in the wreckage

by lookatallthemoresigive



Category: Sweet/Vicious (TV)
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Pining, Vignette, as per canon, everyone is bi, trashy reality tv shows are a healthier form of coping than beating people up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-15 17:18:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9247667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookatallthemoresigive/pseuds/lookatallthemoresigive
Summary: It takes until the lockdown for Ophelia to realize she’s in love with Jules.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Short fic that grabbed hold of my brain and wouldn't let go until I'd written it down, and since this fandom could currently fit into Ophelia's bathroom I figured I'd post it up here! Hope you enjoy.

It takes until the lockdown for Ophelia to realize she’s in love with Jules, which is pretty slow on the uptake for someone who's on track to graduate summa cum laude, because she’s been in love with her since she saw her in that alley.

Still, it isn’t until she watches Jules pin Nate to the wall, confronting her rapist, that, oh, she gets it now.

She gets why Troy burned, because she would bash in Carter’s head a thousand more times if it meant Jules would never get that look on her face ever again.

 

This is, of course, the time where Jules’ world chooses to come crashing down around her, so instead of not processing this revelation with LeBong James, Ophelia is ushering Jules onto the couch, where she can cry and Ophelia can hug her more comfortably.

The Jules on her couch is unrecognizable as the hurricane of grief and fury that confronted Nate, but Ophelia is in even more awe of her. As someone who has skated by her whole life, she knows that sometimes it takes just as much strength to fall apart as it does to put yourself back together.

Ophelia doesn’t know when they ended up on her bed, or how she pieced together the story of Nate’s deception through tears and hiccups, but she does. At last, they are emotionally and physically spent, and she extracts herself from Jules’ embrace.

“Goodnight,” Ophelia says, and heads towards her couch because she’s sure Jules needs some time alone to process everything.

“No, stay. This is your bed, and it would be impolite of me as a guest to kick you out,” Jules says it so primly that it reminds her of the person Jules must've been before all this. The one that Ophelia would have just rolled her eyes at and missed the incredible and brave person underneath the filtered sunset photos and the pink pastel dresses.

So Ophelia lies back down and wills her heart to stop beating out of her chest, hoping Jules doesn’t hear it.

 

Jules wakes up at 3 AM, screaming.

“Hey,” Ophelia says, holding her hands out in an inviting but wary gesture. “It’s okay, you’re alright, you’re safe, and you could kick that douchebag’s ass three ways to Sunday.”

Jules wraps herself in Ophelia’s arms, nodding, tears streaming down her cheeks. “God, I’m so sick of crying,” she says, furiously scrubbing at her cheeks.

“Well, that’s what happens when you become Batman.”

Jules looks up at her, outraged. “Batman doesn’t cry!”

“Oh, that’s what he wants you to think. Batman cries all the time. Which one of us has read comics here?”

Jules laughs, a full body laugh at the image of The Dark Knight sobbing in his Batcave.

“Say Yes to the Dress or America’s Next Top Model?” Ophelia asks, grabbing her laptop because the couch seems impossibly far away.

“Wait a minute, how do you still have a blanket, I’m--”

“--a huge blanket hog? Yeah, I beat you to the nightmare punch, so I stole it back. Nothing like your dreams being filled with the dude you murdered.” She jabs the keyboard with more force than she intended.

“I’m sorry,” Jules says softly, stroking her hand.

“Well, you can’t be the only vagilante around here with nightmares. We’re a team, you know.”

“Yeah, we are,” Jules says, and Ophelia’s heart feels like someone just slashed it with a switchblade. Fuck, out of all times to realize? Karma must be seriously still pissed at her.

“Wow, that dress is super hideous,” she says, pointing to the screen.

Jules pushes away from her to get a better look and Ophelia tries not to mourn the loss of contact.

“Oh, that is so not right for her body type!”

They watch until they can’t keep their eyes open, falling asleep to the soft hum of the laptop.

 

Ophelia wakes up to a knock on her door.

“Ophelia, open up!”

“Hnng,” she whines. She burrows further into the body next to her.

Jules’ soft blonde hair tickles, and she smiles, wondering what shampoo she uses because it smells really good.

Wait, Jules. The girl she just realized she was in love with.

Ophelia bolts up and is at the door in record time.

“Are you still in the same clothes from yesterday?” Harris wrinkles his nose as he walks in the door, coffee tray in hand.

“Yes, you are my favorite person ever!” Ophelia says, and dive-bombs the tray. “Sweet, sweet caffeine.”

“Do I smell coffee?” Jules asks, pushing back her hair as she wanders over.

“Huh, about time,” Harris says, looking between the two of them. Ophelia stares at him blankly. “Jules broke up with Tyler, last night was intense, so I figured you two finally hooked up.”

“No, we’re not--”

“I, we didn’t, I just--”

“Jules had kind of a falling out with Kennedy so she’s crashing here for a while. As a friend.”

“Oh, okay,” Harris says, but he raises his chin like he does when she tells him she's totally not selling weed out of the front register. “It’s just all the late night study sessions--”

“Why are you here, Harris?”

Harris launches into an explanation of the rape wall, which means he knows who their future targets are, which is just dandy.

“So, we have a problem,” Jules says after they finally get him out the door.

“You know, it’d be really great one day to have problems like, we have too many bottles of tequila left over from that awesome party we threw. Or like, a basket of puppies showing up on Vinylton’s front door!”

“Do you have any more amazing plans like last night?”

“I might have one, but it’ll take me some time.”

“Hopefully it won’t take too long, I’m ready to go back out there,” Jules says, a dark look on her face. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“Kay,” Ophelia says, grabbing two cups of ramen for them and willing any mental images out of her mind.

Her phone dings as the water boils. It’s a text from Evan.

_yo last night was batshit!! you okay??_

_yeah, i was safe. holed up in vinylton._  Ophelia sends back, dumping the noodles in.

_good, i’m glad_

_mario kart rematch? ;)_

She wishes. She wishes she could return his beanie and kick his ass more thoroughly, but, sorry Evan, turns out she fell in love with a messed up sorority girl who beats the shit out of people! Life’s funny that way.

“Get changed, we’re going running,” Jules says as she walks into the kitchen, wringing out her hair.

Ophelia stops mid-slurp. “But I’m injured!”

Jules puts a cover over her own and grabs a water. “You’ll live.”

Ophelia slumps down onto the counter, groaning.

 

“So why did Harris think we were together?” Jules asks thirty minutes later as they jog through the quad.

Most of the oxygen going into Ophelia’s body is currently focused on her keeping up with Jules’ relentless pace without passing out, so it takes her a second to process the question.

“Well, I’m bisexual, and lazy, so he’s never really bought the tutoring thing.” Ophelia says, avoiding looking at Jules.

“Fiona probably told him I’m bi too, so that wouldn't have helped.” Jules checks the time and stops. Ophelia follows suit, panting. “I’ve got to get to class. I’ll meet up with you back home at 8?”

_Back home._

“Yeah, sure,” Ophelia says automatically.

“Great, see you then!” Jules smiles, and takes off.

Her straight girl crush was turning out to be not-so-straight, and living with her.

Karma, Ophelia decided, really was a bitch.


End file.
